


Wrong

by orphan_account



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Guilt, I dont know how to tag, It's like sad, Mental Anguish, Metaphors, but spicy??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21926236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He'd done it.He'd let a patient die.
Kudos: 1





	Wrong

Tears streamed down Henrik’s face as he stared absentmindedly at the desk light. Wrong. It all seemed wrong. He’d been placed in a foreign skin, the different textures and shades blending to create something that wasn’t him. 

He was supposed to be the hero, right? He was supposed to be the man with all the power and the knowledge and the tools to fight, right? He was supposed to be the reliable doctor his coworkers knew to be cold but efficient. He was supposed to ensure the lives of each person who went under that operating table would remain fully intact, right?

Wrong. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. He let this happen, he let someone die in his own two hands. 

He wasn’t in control anymore. 

An endless tirade over who knows what spilled out of his lungs in a flurry of language amalgamations. It barely sounded like a sentence. Just empty sounds spilling through the cracks of the dam, recking havoc on the innocent lives below. 

It made him feel sick, but he swallowed and opened his desk drawers. What he was searching for, he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything at that moment. His thoughts were not his own anymore. They were a result of the numb itch in the back of his head, an animal trapped in its cage begging to be let out. 

So, he let it out. He opened the padlock, lightly stroking the beast’s mane and stepped back. Hoarse breaths enveloped his ears, and the ground shook in anticipation. The calm before the storm. 

A muffled scream bellowed out of his throat. There were still chains, but the beast was out of its cage. Free ranged except for the fences. 

His hands gripped the sides of his jacket, the pens he had left uncapped swirling lines against his palms. He couldn’t stop shaking. The world couldn’t stop shaking. Why won’t it stop? Why is it still shaking? He’d done everything he was supposed to do, right? Right?

Wrong. 

He’d let a patient die.


End file.
